New Players, Old Game
by c0d3s1ing3r
Summary: It's been a while hasn't it? Samantha has been getting tired of the same old monotony over the years, she really wants to spice things up a bit, but how? Same old story, same old maps, same old everything. But new players. Based on Nazi zombies Shi no Numa through Origins. Will probably incorporate blops three as soon as all the dlc comes out.
1. Prologue

Samantha was growing tired.

After years of being in the Aether, torturing Rictofen, Takeo, Nikolai and Dempsey was getting to be very, very boring. She considered travelling to another timeline, she was particularly attracted to the universe where she got to play the helpless captive and be rescued by those she tortured now. It was a nice change of pace.

Unfortunately, while she enjoyed that timeline, it made her too soft on her current version of the main four. She recollected that last time she switched between the two timelines and come back to the original, Rictofen had almost managed to breach the Aether. While playing the game instead of making it was a change of pace, transferring between the two was always a pain

'I can go visit a different group' Sam mused to herself. She was particularly fond of the first area she had control of. The military base was home to the first group of zombie killers she had encountered, the marines themselves had always been a bit generic but they were some of the most efficient killers she had ever had the pleasure of observing.

There was also that group in America, some facility called the... what was it... hexagon? Yeah, the group at the hexagon. Politicians... who would have thought that people of different backgrounds could come together if they had a common enemy? Sam shook her head and smiled lightly, she should be an international peacekeeper with her knack for forcing people to fight together.

Besides the group at the hexagon there was that group of actors near Siberia. This was the first group she made a super zombie for, and wasn't he a beautiful creation? He was virtually invulnerable to damage and a colossal deterrent to holdouts. He managed destroy the survivors multiple times by just outlasting them.

Perhaps it was finally time for a new arena. Better yet, new people. Sam gasped to herself. Of course! New players to this game, new players in an old arena. What a way to spice up the monotony of her existence. Without contemplating the consequences, she began to tap into the vast amount of element 115 she had at her disposal. She began looking through alternate timelines, different people from different walks of life.

After hours of searching for the right group (talk about a headache!), she finally settled on who would be the next players in her game.

And even though no one could see it, she smiled

This was going to be a very, very fun game.


	2. Chapter 1

It's a bright summer day in the northeastern United States. Birds are chirping, the sun is shining. You can hear the faint sound of a lawnmower running over someone's sandal, and the ensuing colorful language that followed.

But nothing was more colorful than this day. The perfect day for enjoying life and being outside. The beauty was only outmatched by the serenity, and as a bird flew past a house window-

"Yes you, get to O1... Because it's getting captured you fuck!"

The sudden outburst startled the blue jay, which impacted the house's garden fence. After recovering from the collision the bird ruffled it's feathers and glanced (or glared) back toward the house before continuing on its way.

While the day was perfect for being outside, plenty of people stood in defiance of the weather and spent their day cooped up in their homes.

John was one of those people.

He had been gaming for around 8 hours straight, only taking breaks for food and bathroom. Normally he wasn't this dedicated, but during summer he made exceptions. Today? someone had made the mistake of thinking they could be new to the game; in HIS server no less. Everyone knows they need to spend at least a full day learning about the game before you even BEGIN to play it.

Physically, John wasn't very remarkable. He had an average build, maybe a little bit on the heavier side, but he wore it well. The only noticeable thing about him was his ridiculously Aryan look. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and paler than a ghost complexion; he could stand out in a crowd, but only if you looked for his blonde mop of hair.

On his computer table was a pair of fairly thin glasses, a package of sunflower seeds, a wallet, keys and a tissue box. Right now he was leaning back in his computer chair as his hands danced across the keyboard, typing commands to his fellow teammates. The monitor John was actively using held the game he was playing. On his second monitor, he had his Computer Science summer homework (half-finished). The sun peered through his curtained window, falling across the floor and tickling his feet. It was very normal for John, this was his routine, this was what he did; wake up, college, games, sleep. Today was just like every other day.

* * *

This was the scene Samantha came across while she was browsing the various timelines. She had searched specifically for people with different personalities than she had grown accustomed to. Something new. From what Sam could see, John was weak, pampered. It made her lip curl in disgust, before turning to a sneer. He needed to… appreciate what he had; forcing him to fight off her hordes sounded like the perfect way to make that happen.

It would be interesting to see him die to her minions, begging for someone to help him. He seemed the type, softer players always did go out that way.

But though watching him fail would bring her joy, having him go it alone would spoil the fun. She'd tried isolating members of her cast before; they would typically fizzle out before they made it far, save for some exceptions. No, the more players the better the game. Before bringing him to her favorite arena, she would find him some compatriots.

With that, she stopped watching, and began searching for Player 2.

* * *

After Sam left, John continued playing for several hours before getting a message from one of his friends over Steam.

"hey fuckboi, ya wanna play zombies?"

John considered the offer for a moment, before countering.

"new phone who dis"

"Just as I thought, get in mumble"

"fuck that, I already have skype up"

"alis and n1ck are both in already, get in here"

"FUCK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU" John typed as he booted up the voice communications service.

After arriving to the lobby, he was automatically transferred to the 'Jet Memes can't melt Steel Fuel' room, where he was greeted with the sarcastic cheers of his friends.

He smiled, before replying in kind and booting up World at War. As a normal rule, he wouldn't be caught dead playing Call of Duty, but zombies always was something else. It was a fun mode and Treyarch's baby. Not to mention it was a great way to unwind and talk to some of his closest friends.

Their favorite map was Der Riese, which they chose. As they spawned in, he couldn't help but keep a smile from his face.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

 **A/N: Hoping I captured the essence of the majority of my online conversations. Feels good to write one down.**

 **Also hoping that having it surrounded by more formal language makes it funny**


	3. Chapter 2

Dan stalked through the forest as water dripped down his face. He had his PPsh strapped to his back while his USSR Ushanka proudly adorned his head. Slowly, he approached where the enemy encampment should be.

Yes, just over the crest of the next hill. He took out his SMG and slowly stalked around before-

"AHHH MOTHERLAAAAND!"

* * *

It was a rainy day in the Midwestern US, Oregon had received numerous flash floods over the course of the day. But for hardcore paintballers, this weather was perfect.

Dan jumped from his crouched position into a full on swan dive over the top of the hill. His enemies, which were guarding their flag, were completely taken by surprise as the lone member of the enemy team began raining hell from just above them. Paint splattered their gear as Dan's high-ROF weapon did its job.

It was only a few seconds, but all defenders of the Blue team's flag had been defeated. Dan stood from his position and raised his weapon over his head, smiled a shit eating grin at the disappointed Blue team and cried:

"VRAG UBIT!"

before walking over to his own cheering team in the distance, with the blue team's flag in hand. The nearby referees looked on, upset at the USSR sympathizer, but nonetheless impressed at his maneuver.

Dan smiled to himself, nothing beat the feeling of being a star soldier. Team Red's flag (which he had proudly brought when he arrived) swayed in the air. The USSR banner waved to the Russian sympathizer as though her were Stalin himself as he stomped over with the enemy's flag held tightly in his mitts.

Dan himself had an infantryman's build. He spent long hours at the gym to get himself into shape. He wasn't overly bulky, but there was some inner strength you could tell was there. He was Persian as well, as was evidenced by his naturally tan skin and jet black mop of hair. The PPsh turned paintball rifle was strapped to his back again, and he wore full military fatigues. To complete the stereotype, he had a flask attached at his hip.

He took a swig and grinned. The last match of the day was done, and he was the victor.

* * *

Sam laughed at Dan's antics, an eerie echoic laugh that reverberated through the Aether . Yes, he would be a perfect addition to the cast. If nothing else as comic relief. His personality seemed to be at odds with John's, which made combining the two of them a recipe for entertainment. He was looking for excitement, so let's give him some.

'If nothing else, he should survive more than the ten seconds I expect from John.' She thought with a spiteful grin. While she had hoped to find someone different from her current Russian, every group needed a comic. Dan seemed ideal. With that, she stopped watching and searched once more.

Player 3 was next.

* * *

An hour or so later, Dan arrived home. Standing in the doorway waiting for him was his little brother Ark.

"Get the fuck outta my way Ark!"

"Not until you see what my classmate wrote on their facebook"

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE ASSHOLE!" Saying this, he pushed his little brother aside before running upstairs to shower. After showering, he dashed over to his room, taking care to make sure he barreled through his brother. After saluting the poster of Stalin he had on his bedroom wall, he hopped onto his computer and booted up Steam.

He'd had a lot of fun playing other games lately; but now, he wanted to hang out with some of his closer friends online. He messaged his buddy Lyndon to see if he was interested:

"The 60s called, they want their president back"

"Get better jokes nick"

"IT'S N1CK YOU PIECE OF SHIT, I ADDED THE 1 FOR A GODDAMN REASON"

"yeah yeah, tell it to the judge"

Nick smiled, nobody's sense of humor was drier than Lyndon's

"So what do you want?" Lyndon asked.

"How's about, now listen, how's about we play some zombies"

"That… that is possibly the dumbest idea I've ever heard. I mean, that's worse than kicking Hitler out of art school."

"So are you in?"

"Sure, I'll tell c0de and alis. Get in the mumble."

"But I wanna use skyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyype"

"Shut the fuck up, we paid for this"

"fine, be there in a bit"

Dan hopped into the mumble and was quickly greeted by Lyndon and the server message: "Undertale is a shitty game." After exchanging pleasantries, alis quickly arrived (quiet as usual) followed by c0de.

Going to their favorite map, they started once again. Nick smiled.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

 **A/N: Characterization! Exposition! Setting! Foreshadowing!**


	4. Chapter 3

Brandon was a good teacher.

Brandon would never hit a student.

Brandon kept telling himself this as the dumbass in front of him tried to convince him why he should curve his grade from a 61 to a 90.

"Professor Knight, please understand. My other classes were interfering too much with my wor-"

"Really? That's super interesting, tell me more excuses for why you didn't turn in around a quarter of your assignments. I mean, it's not like I was giving people credit for handing it in no matter what was right or wrong, or that the rest of the class didn't have any problem doing it."

"Uh… Extra Credit?"

Brandon glared at the student from across his desk, before breaking out into a grin.

"I have, actually, been talking to your other teachers," he replied smugly "and they agreed that I should give you THIS!" he yelled before pulling a stack of papers from the nearest drawer and hurling it at the surprised student.

Somehow, the student caught the papers and looked over the first one which read "final project: 2016."

"You've been served" the Professor said. The student gave him a bewildered expression.

Brandon sighed before deadpanning "they all said your grades in their classes were very high, and I hate to see my class be the one that pulls your grade down. I'm fairly certain that you were 'unaware' *wink* of my grading system." Brandon said. "Complete the final project from the year I first took this class, and I'll use that as your grade for the term. Don't screw it up."

The student looked at him in amazement, before rushing up and pumping the professor's hand. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!" They said, dashing out of the room before Brandon changed his mind.

* * *

Brandon Knight was in his second year of teaching history, and he'd taken the school by storm.

He wasn't very remarkable physically. He kept his hair trimmed but long, with a lanky, tall build. He could be intimidating through his voice, but that's about it. There was a constant glimmer in his eye that betrayed his joking nature, but also his short temper. People were always cautious around him, but he was nice enough.

Students learned to fear and love the young teacher; his classes were considered the most fun by the majority of the student body. He routinely taught using movies, recent political cartoons, music, even videogames that used the subject in some way. He would happily give out group projects that allowed students to present in new and interesting ways. He availed himself to be always available to contact (at least from 9 to 5). Best of all, he was effective; his students regularly scored higher on standardized tests.

He was, however, ludicrously tough on any students who disobeyed him, the punishment for which would be at first a warning, followed by immediate ejection from the class. However, he was always a lenient grader. If a student missed assignments he would rarely penalize them, so long as they did the work (at least, after a harsh talking to).

His unorthodox teaching methods made covering any topic that was in a game a recipe for high enrollment. He managed to convince the university to put those classes in the tech labs, and convince IT to load them up with games that covered his topics.

Because of this, any course that covered World War Two, ended up filled to carrying capacity.

As the clock finally struck 5 at University of California, the Professor walked out to his car. As he drove home, he thought back on the day. He may have overdone it on that student, but watching their reactions was always priceless. He was happy, and he knew he'd done well.

* * *

Samantha watched on thoughtfully. The young man struck her as odd. She could feel he was somehow different than those around him. His short fuse and ability to say things plainly amazed her. His character was unique, she realized, and he would fit in perfectly with her current cast.

Yes of course, the dumb one would piss off the other two, the professor would snap and begin yelling at the others and then the soldier would intervene with some stupid comments about what they were doing. Sam smiled to herself, 'These three will do wonderfully together, God I can already picture it… Now then, one more.' She said to herself as she dissappeared.

The last player was about to be found.

* * *

Brandon soon arrived at his apartment. He dropped off his things in the living room before heading inside and booting up his PC. As he waited for his computer to boot up, he recalled the topic for his HIS 134 class.

It was hosted in a computer lab that day, they were going over World War Two while playing through the Call of Duty: World at War campaign. The assignment for the class was simple, finish the campaign (using godmode need be) and do a small write up on the locations in the game and soldier culture. As expected, numerous students finished early and began playing Nazi Zombies.

Jokingly, one of his students asked if the zombies lore would be covered on the final. Professor Knight thought about it a moment before replying "This is a History class. History cannot be retconned, but look at what happened to zombies." The professor paused "that being said, look for a little something in the bonus questions" The student grinned at the Professor before going back to the siege of the Reichstag.

His computer finished booting and he was automatically logged onto Steam. Not five minutes later, he received a message from his good buddy n1ck, asking him to play zombies. He wasn't THAT bored of the game yet, even after using it all day in class. So he agreed to get alis and c0de.

"hey alis"

"?"

"n1ck wanted to do zombies, you interested?"

":D"

"cool, get in the mumble"

"skype?"

"You're the 28th person to ask me that today. NO, WE WILL NOT BE USING SKYPE."

";-;7"

"We're paying for the server, we're gonna use it"

"-_-"

"great, I'll see you there"

After contacting alis and c0de, Brandon formed the lobby in game and chose the group's favorite map: Der Riese. After briefly talking about their day, they were on their way to the factory. Brandon smiled.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

 **A/N: Doughnut steel OCs pl0x (idgaf)**


End file.
